


proMises

by 8ucky8arnes



Series: fragMents [13]
Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Season 2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 05:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17400710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ucky8arnes/pseuds/8ucky8arnes
Summary: Clarice let out a shaky breath, “I’m scared John…” she was surprised at the tears, not sure she’d had any left to shed, “I’m scared that when you walk out that door and jump headfirst into this war…that you won’t come back.”“Clarice…”Her head snapped up, “Don’t youdaremake any false promises, John Proudstar.”





	proMises

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, small freakout aside (HE SAID HE LOVED HER!) I wanted to apologize for this taking so long but I watched the episode a little later than usual. I'm not entirely sure what this is as I feel as though Clarice's train of thought is all over the place with this piece but I hope you guys all read it and enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Clarice watched his expression, seeing the softness and weariness disappear behind a wall in his eyes as he pushed himself up. If she could ignore the slight sheen to his skin or the bandages around his chest, it was like the pain had just vanished…and she hated Evangeline in that moment as she watched John stand and walk to the bathroom.

_John had just been tortured for God’s sake!_ He needed to rest, to heal…not plan for a damn war, not shove down everything down like he’d done for the last six months because he was the leader and couldn’t show weakness and act like everything was fine when it clearly was not…

Caitlyn’s words spun around her head until she felt dizzy.

_“People bend, they adapt, but they don't change.”_

The tears that had blurred her vision spilled over once more, Clarice pulling her knees to her chest. She rested her forehead on her knees as the shower started, allowing the small choked sob to slip out. “ _Damnit_ John.”

No matter how mad she got at the woman, it wouldn’t really change anything.

_“This is who John is and who the world needs him to be.”_

John would always be a fighter, a leader, a soldier…a protector. He been one long before she’d ever met him, before the Underground was created. He’d fought in wars as a Marine before he’d ever donned the name Thunderbird.

Evangeline knew this. It was why he’d been chosen.

He would never give up, never stop fighting…not until it killed him.

Clarice shuddered as the image of him chained up and bleeding flashing through her mind. It haunted her every waking moment and featured in every nightmare when she actually managed to fall asleep…

_“Yeah, but what about what I need him to be?”_

Those hours spent agonizing over whether or not he was alive were the worst of her life, her brain conjuring up the old memories of Mama D and Carl’s house: the sight of sunlight streaming through bullet holes, the glass crunching under her shoes, the large pools of blood a dull red against the white tile…

She couldn’t help thinking that it was happening again, that someone she cared for had died because she’d left…because it had been too hard for her to stay. Because that was how she’d always dealt with it when the shit life had thrown at her became too much…she ran.

She ran, left others before they could leave her…

And John, he refused to let anything… _anyone_ go…

_“I-I lost Pulse and I lost Dreamer and it's hard for me to be this close to someone.” He held her stare, those dark fathomless eyes full of so much pain and grief, “I get scared to lose someone else that I love.”_

_“John, I don't want to lose you, too.” She was smiling despite the tears, “I’m scared.”_

_He brushed them away with a gentle hand, a small smile curling his lips…_

That was what it really boiled down to.

_Fear._

The fear of abandonment and loss had always fueled their lives and every decision they’d made up to this point, every feeling they’d ever had. Clarice couldn’t help but see that just how many of their arguments over the last few weeks had been full of it.

His bruised knuckles came to the forefront of her mind, her own hands curling in response.

Even now, she feared what would happen if she left for good. If she succumbed to her old habits and joined the Morlocks like Erg seemed to want so badly… Clarice swallowed at the thought, hating that the answer seemed to already be there in the back of her mind just waiting to make itself known.

John would unravel at the seams, the anger and self-depreciation of all he’d lost consuming him.

It scared her, how much he needed her, how much she grounded him…

How much he loved her.

_“You love each other. It’s gonna be okay.”_

Clarice remembered the comment she’d bitten back about how love didn’t solve everything, didn’t fix anything. Marcos and Lorna could barely be around each other now and the Struckers themselves seemed to be held together by sheer force of will more than anything else…

Love could harm as well as heal.

_Could John’s love for her keep him from completely losing himself?_

_Could her love for him keep her at his side through a war?_

“Clarice?”

She lifted her head, startled from her thoughts.

John stood in the doorway of their bedroom, towel hanging low on his hips and hair still dripping. He’d removed his bandages, his bare torso a mess of bruising and angry red scabs. He had to be in pain, but he just looked at her with raw concern. “What’s wrong?”

Clarice blinked, realizing that she was still crying. She shook her head and wiped the tears away with the hem of her shirt as she stood, “It‘s nothing, John. I’m fine. You should uh…you should let me help you with your wrappings.”

He frowned, catching her wrist when she went to pass him, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Clarice glanced down at their hands: his bruised knuckled and her bitten down nails, before looking up at him. She reached up with her other hand, tracing the pink scars on his face that would no doubt be gone soon. “I’m scared, John.”

Like he had in the back of the jeep, he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

“I am too.”

The words surprised her and she saw his small smile. For as long as she’d been with him, he’d rarely said that he was nervous or scared or unsure of anything. Usually, any straightforward answer about how he felt was equivalent to pulling teeth, but given how the last few months had gone…

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“Don’t sound so amused.” She fired back, stepping back and around him to grab a fresh roll of bandages from the generous supply Caitlyn had left them from the bathroom, returning to find John wearing shorts and sitting at the end of the bed while he towel dried his hair.

He smiled sideways at her, “What?”

“Arms up.” She said as she came to stand in front of him and he immediately lifted them, Clarice not able to completely disguise her own grimace when he winced. She kept her hand steady as she held on end of the bandages to his hip, hoping the teasing note in her voice was believable as she slowly unrolled it, “You’re being rather…cooperative.”

John said nothing as the bandages reached his chest.

She paused, looking up.

He was watching her, the concern still evident in his eyes.

“What?”

“Are you going to tell me why you were so upset?”

She opened her mouth, closed it, “I did tell you.”

“Why does everyone forget I can hear heartbeats?” he muttered.

“Probably because it’s kind of weird.” She smiled at him as he chuckled, her expression falling when he tensed so slightly. “How ‘bout I finished wrapping you up and then we’ll talk…that work for you?”

He nodded, “Yeah.”

She finished in silence, handing John probably his fifth Gatorade of the day and almost laughed at the disgruntled expression he made as he drank it. She changed into one of his shirts and climbed into bed next to him.

He held out a hand palm up.

She took it, intertwining their fingers and pressing their forearms together. Clarice took a moment to just feel the pulse in his wrist, as strong and steady as always, before resting their hands on her leg.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

Clarice let out a shaky breath, “I’m scared John…” she was surprised at the tears, not sure she’d had any left to shed, “I’m scared that when you walk out that door and jump headfirst into this war…that you won’t come back.”

“Clarice…”

Her head snapped up, “Don’t you _dare_ make any false promises, John Proudstar.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, _Blink_.”

_Damnit Marcos._ She groaned. “Are we really bringing that up now… _Thunderbird_?”

His smile was only slightly forced, “No jokes here. I like it.”

She dropped her head, face warm.

“Clarice…” his fingers ghosted along her jaw, “look at me.”

She lifted her face, turning her cheek into his palm.

“I know better than to make promises I can’t keep.” his gaze ran slowly over her features, as if soaking them in, thumb brushing over the mark under her eye, “I know that I won’t be able to control what happens in this fight, but…”

Clarice closed her eyes as he rested his forehead against hers.

“God, I’ve made so many mistakes…done so many things wrong…”

She squeezed his hand as he trailed off.

His fingers moved up, tracing the point of her ear and combing through her hair as he cupped the back of her head. “But you’re still here, still by my side even when I treated you so terribly and tried to push you away. You stayed… _Shiyá’ái háyáá.”_

Clarice shuddered, the syllables washing over her.

“My sunrise.” His smile could be heard in his voice as his fingers tightened in her hair and her hand, “My beautiful sunrise…my reminder of a better life, a better world for me and for everyone I love. A better world for _us_.”

“ _John_ …”

“This is my promise to you.” He leaned back, both hands now holding her face, “No matter what happens to me, no matter who or what I may face. I will _always_ find my way back to you.”

Clarice leaned forward, capturing his mouth in a burning kiss she felt in the deepest, darkest parts of herself. Heat followed his hands as they slid down her back and lifted her up and into his lap and she carefully back leaned back, nearly smiling as she reached down to stop his hands from moving up her legs, “Now I’m going to tell you something.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Now I don’t have your…way with words, but…” she combed her hair over to one side, trying to form anything remotely as impressive and breathtaking as his small speech, but coming up short. _Straight to the point it is_. “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved another person and I will _not_ sit on the sideline and wait dutifully for you safe return-”

“I would never ask you too.”

“No interruptions.”

He smiled, lowering his chin, “Yes ma’am.”

“As I was saying…” she cleared her throat, ignoring the laughter in his eyes, “if you think you’re doing this without me, you have another thing coming. I don’t care what Evangeline says or what her plans for you are, I’m not leaving your side for a second.”

“Clarice…”

“ _That’s_ my promise to you.”

He grinned after a long moment, “Very well put.”

Her smile widened, “I thought so.”

His fingers traced patterns into her skin, “So now that all’s been said…”

“We’re going to sleep.” She laughed at the flash of disappointment she saw. “Okay?”

His expression softened, “Stay with me?”

“I thought I already made a big speech about how I would.”

He chuckled, keeping an arm around her as they both laid down.

She smiled into his shoulder as she curled into his side.

Maybe Caitlyn was right.

Maybe everything was going to be okay.


End file.
